


Alternative ending to a rp

by CantBeAskedTM



Category: Five nights at freddys - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Blood, Child Abuse, Death, M/M, Murder, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25916053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantBeAskedTM/pseuds/CantBeAskedTM
Summary: Haha Michael finds out William murdered the kids
Relationships: Fitzafton mention
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Alternative ending to a rp

“Michael, Michael boy I just wanna talk” Michael knew what talk meant, it meant a knife shoved into his stomach over and over again until he stopped moving. His father was a liar, a filthy fucking disgusting liar. 

They had played this cat and mouse game for a while, Michael had accidentally found out that his father was behind all five of the recent missing children’s cases. It was an accident. He wished it stayed a secret, he wished he stayed oblivious. He was hysterical in the groupchat, typing things he doubt anyone really understood due to amount of typos. They must of been worried since the last message he sent was a ‘he’s home’ with at least three wrong letters in there.

William knew that Michael knew, and he knew Michael was going to tell. Which meant he had to get rid of him. William was the cat, and Michael was the mouse. They had played the cat and mouse game for at least 10 minutes, chasing each other everywhere around the house.

Michael managed to grab a bat from the attic, something to at least defend him self. He hid behind a corner, back against the wall. One hand gripped the handle of the bat tightly as the other he held over his own mouth to silence himself. All William had to know is that he went down that hall, he didn’t need to know Michael was behind the corner.

As soon as Michael had seen a glance of the man coming around the corner he moved his other hand to grip the bat for a more steady hold, swinging it with force at his father’s head. 

William fell to the floor with a grunt, supporting himself up with his elbows. The knife he was holding in his hand fell to the floor with a clutter. He shook as he tried to push him self back up. Michael stood over him, bat held tightly in his hands. His knuckles were turning white from how tight he gripping the handle, he didn’t speak, hot tears still streamed down his face as he panted for air with his mouth agape.

“You fucking little shit-“ he tried to get up again, but was met with another smack to the back of the head with Michael’s tired grunt. 

He was down, Michael could run now. Yeah, he could run and just grab his siblings and leave and they could get help, William would be arrested. Yes he could leave now and everything would be over and he would be safe. He had to be safe. 

He spent too long considering whether he should run or not, not noticing his father moving until he saw that he was already pushing himself up on his knees, head tilted up to look at Michael. Michael felt himself get angry, swinging the bat at his father’s face this time, knocking him backwards so this time he was on his back. Michael put a foot on his father’s chest to keep him down but- he was smiling. His father was smiling up at him with a toothy grin, teeth stained red from the blood coming from his now broken nose. Michael’s expression didn’t change.

“Atta boy” he father spat some blood out of his mouth. He opened his mouth to speak up coughed, groaning slightly after. “You were always such a violent child,”

“Shut up.”

“You were always trying to fight someone, you just had to let it all out at once didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“I imagined them all as you, their little faces as they turned purple or blue, I imagined your disgusting face-“

“Shut up.”

“Begging me to stop as I took their lives-“

“Shut. Up.”

“It was nice, especially considering how they all had the name of your fag friends.”

“Shut. Up!”

“It felt good, especially the one named after your little boyfriend. Don’t think I don’t know you disgusting shit. You’re lucky I didn’t go after the real deal-“

“Shut! Up!”

“No wonder your mother fucking left you-“

“I said shut up!” Michael screamed, and with that he swung the bat over his head, colliding straight with his fathers face.

Okay that’s it, that’s enough, he’s had enough. Stop. But did he ever stop? Did his father ever stop? Did he ever stop when Michael had had enough, when he was so badly bruised and bleeding he could barely stand? Not even when Michael would have to ditch school or hanging out with friends. Did he ever stop when Michael was in his room screaming and crying at the top of his lungs for his father to let him out of his room as William stood on the other side of the door, locking it from the outside. No, he never stopped, he didn’t care. Course he didn’t stop with the kids either, he didn’t stop when they cried or screamed or begged. Michael hit him again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Again.

Again.

And again. 

He swung the bat with force, screaming his hatred and distain for his father with every hit. He only stopped when he realised how much blood there was.

His father’s face was so badly beaten in it wasnt recognisable. Blood had oozed out of his head, forming a puddle that kept growing. Blood had splattered everywhere, on the wall, on the bat, all over Michael’s clothes and hands. Some even was on his face. 

Michael dropped the bat with a shaky breath, moving away from his father’s body as he shook, staying away feom the puddle that kept growing and growing. It was reaching out to him. Michael stumbled backwards, crawling away by kicking his feet till he felt his back hit the wall.

He was crying a lot harder, but the only noises he made was his shaky breathing- his body easily as shaky. His reached a hand out to his father, he didn’t know why, until moving it back toward him, to hold his own face. Blood smeared on his hands onto his face. He started to scream, legs curling up against his body. He held him self in the foetal position for a while. Screaming bloody murder while sobbing. Oh fuck, he wasn’t meant to do that. He wasn’t meant to do that. Oh god. He fucked up. He fucked up so bad.


End file.
